


Night Watch

by hermionebellemae



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Angst, Book 7: Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows, F/M, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Horcrux Hunting, Mutual Pining, The Deathly Hallows
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-31
Updated: 2021-01-31
Packaged: 2021-03-17 13:14:00
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 777
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29100828
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hermionebellemae/pseuds/hermionebellemae
Summary: “She gingerly took a sip and was immediately filled with something akin to longing. He’d never asked her how she took her tea: he already knew. Sometimes, it struck her just how Ron was the one person in the world who knew her better than anyone else.”Deathly Hallows tent missing moment. Romione.
Relationships: Hermione Granger/Ron Weasley
Comments: 8
Kudos: 44





	Night Watch

**Author's Note:**

> You can pry Deathly Hallows missing moments from my cold, dead hands.

She heard him swear quietly behind her, just beyond the tent entrance, undoubtedly having spilled hot tea on himself while juggling two mugs at once. She bit back a grin in spite of herself. It had become daily occurrence for him to prepare tea for the three of them. When asked, he’d said he liked making tea for everyone because it gave him something to do. However, she wondered if it was just an excuse for him to spend time with her. Not that he would even need one anymore, her cold and indifferent treatment of him upon his return had all but vanished in the wake of the events at the Lovegood’s house and Harry’s growing obsession with the Deathly Hallows.

It had been nearly a month since he’d been back, and day by day, he gradually chipped away the walls she had built around herself. Perhaps it was because he had spent every moment of his return trying to make it up to her: taking the lead on their mission, quietly picking up extra hours on his shifts, performing twice his share of chores, and keeping the peace between Harry and herself. 

Or, she thought ruefully, perhaps it was because she knew that no matter how badly he’d mucked things up, there was nothing he could ever do to make her hate him.

“Hey.” She glanced over her shoulder at the sound of his voice, just in time to see him appear through the flaps of the tent, holding two mugs with a wooly blanket slung over his forearm. She reached out both hands to take her tea from him, relishing in the warmth that came from the cup and the brief contact of their fingertips. “Thank you.” She gingerly took a sip and was immediately filled with something akin to longing. He’d never asked her how she took her tea: he already knew. Sometimes, it struck her just how Ron was the one person in the world who knew her better than anyone else.

She stared ahead at the tree line, mug cradled in her hands, unsurprised as he took a seat beside her. 

“You should be sleeping,” she gently chided, but there was no conviction in her voice. 

“I’m not tired.” There was a peculiar hint of cheerfulness in his tone as he unfolded the blanket and shook it out, spreading it across both of their legs. She knew this to be a lie, he had taken an extra-long shift just before her, and, doing the math in her head, it had to have been at least twenty hours since he last slept. She chose not to mention this.

She would never admit it, but her alone time with Ron was nearly the only thing she had to look forward to anymore. With Harry growing increasingly distracted and distant, it was only a matter of time before she and Ron once again became one another’s closest confidantes. It sparked a similar feeling to that in fifth year, when her heart would secretly flutter in anticipation of being alone with Ron on prefect rounds. It was the same excitement she felt in sixth year, when Harry’s private lessons with Dumbledore meant that she and Ron would spend hours together in the common room, her doing homework, and Ron doing his best to distract her. 

Her train of thought lead her to cast a glance over at him, only to find him already looking at her. He poorly disguised this by clearing his throat and looking ahead once more. 

“How’s the tea?” He asked her.

“It’s perfect.”

“Good. I’m glad.”

Perhaps it was the warmth of his presence or the calming effects of the tea or the fact that they lived in uncertainty of the journey ahead, but she lowered her head to rest on his shoulder without allowing herself to overthink and second guess her every move with Ron in her typical fashion. In an instant, he wrapped his arm around her, pulling her closer and gently rubbing his hand up and down her arm in an effort to warm her. 

They remained that way, in silence, enjoying one another’s company. 

“Ron?” She broke their silence, finally, after several long minutes.

“Yeah?”

“I’m really glad you’re here.”

She couldn’t see his face, but could hear the smile in his voice as he held her the slightest bit tighter and spoke, “Yeah. Me too.” 

He rested his cheek against the crown of her head. She remained, content to wait out the remaining seventeen minutes of her shift, curled up against Ron and staring out at the nearly-imperceptible silhouette of the trees against the night sky.


End file.
